Hours of Darkness
by Grand High Idol
Summary: He was long exiled...but now, he has risen again to rid Cyberspace of humanity, causing a robot rebellion. And despite all that he claims to be, he will show no mercy to those that underlie him...[1 & 2 of part I posted]
1. I I: Apollo

**HOURS OF DARKNESS**

**A Cyberchase Saga by Grand High Idol**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Cyberchase, nor any of its characters.**

**PART I: THE DARKNESS ARISES**

**I: I. APOLLO**

Cyberspace. An endless, spacious area filled with various cybersites, colorful cybercitizens, and, of course, peace and harmony all around. Despite the damage the Hacker had inflicted upon their beloved leader, Motherboard, and despite what he'd done to nearly destroy their sites in the past, they still lived harmoniously and happily—thanks to the Cybersquad and their trusty bird sidekick.

Of course, there are few who consider Cyberspace to be nothing but a snare for torment and misery, and, although one may be slightly appalled by the fact, there was one other besides Hacker who hated the entire place with a passion…only he wasn't a monarch, nor did he ever consider the fact to become one. He was more of a racial activist, and there was one, and only one, race that he hated with a passion.

Human beings.

The very thought disgusted him. Awhile back, before Motherboard had finally put a stop to it, robots and humans did not mix, nor were they ever supposed to (not like now, where nearly half the Cyberspacian population was at least a quarter robot). Humans thought of robots to be the inferior race, thus this caused quite a few racial conflicts throughout Cyberspace.

Eventually the robots did receive their fair share of the equality, but there were a precious few humans who still disliked them and anything that had to do with them. Robots, they claimed, had been created to serve humans, not rebel against them and become their own race. Robots were designed to be slaves, designed to be beaten and harassed if they refused to follow orders, designed to tend to every whim of their human creator. But Motherboard allowed nothing of it.

He hated Motherboard as well, however. He'd been in isolation for quite a few eons, now, but he had still overheard the rumors about the Cybersquad and how they constantly defended Cyberspace. The Cybersquad were all human children—all except one, a robotic bird who appeared to serve as a sidekick during their missions. Motherboard was a kind leader, in truth, but he thought otherwise. His distaste for human beings was so great that he hated anyone that ever even accepted humans into their community.

What's more, he'd also overheard that the kids hadn't originated in Cyberspace—they had come from some other place called "Earth." He'd been Earthen once, too, quite awhile back, but he had exiled himself from that dreadful planet and had arrived here instead, easily adjusting to the Cyberspacian way of life. But too many times had he seen acts of robotic racism around every once in a while, and this gradually became a large issue. Being an android himself, he was not satisfied with the way his species—if that was the proper term for it—was being treated.

For eons at a time he'd been in his own isolated area, plotting, scheming, planning…and, eventually, it all fell together. Humans should never have been the superior race—they were too ignorant, too stupid, and too disrespectful toward one another to even keep their own planet running at a good level. And now, he thought, if they were sending human children into Cyberspace, without further thoughts or even mild consideration, just imagine what could follow…

It was enough. He had finally decided that Cyberspace should never have been polluted with these evil beings in the first place. Cyberspace should be able to reside as a peaceful and harmonial universe…without the interference of human imperfection.

But it had been so cluttered up with human beings already…something had to be done.

Thus, he had decided to call together his own kind for one last battle, one last attempt to regain what was truly meant to be theirs in the first place. It would be a difficult task to pull off, he knew, and he had already organized several things that would make the task much easier for both he and his new allies alike.

Now there was only one thing left to be done…

* * *

"Blast those meddling moppets!" Hacker shouted angrily, waving a fist. Apparently one of his seemingly ingenious plans had been foiled yet again thanks to the Cybersquad, and of course he wasn't happy with it. "They'll regret the day they ever decided to interfere with the work of the Hacker!" 

He whipped around and began to storm out of the main control room, down one of the Grim Wreaker's large hallways, still ranting furiously as he departed. "You hear me! They'll regret it! THEY'LL REGRET IT…!"

This left the control room quiet…for the most part. Buzz and Delete, Hacker's robotic henchmen, were sitting at the table in the center of the control room. Delete was whimpering quietly and gently rubbing his breastbone, while Buzz was slouched forward on one of the chairs, holding an ice-pack to his head. The two had suffered quite a few blows when the kids had defeated Hacker—and of course, as always, they had to suffer for it as well. It never failed. It never did.

What had happened this time played out into the following scenario: Hacker had decided to try an attempt to take over Castleblanca again—this time by using "natural" cause. He had created a special device that would allow him to generate powerful seismic waves in nearly any direction, causing greatly powerful earthquakes that had shaken down quite a few landmarks. For awhile the citizens of Castleblanca seemed to be in great shock, and in those moments it actually looked like Hacker could pull this one off.

But, as always, the Goody-Goody Gang had to show up and stop him. After some trouble approaching the location where the waves were being generated, they had finally halted his chaos attack by turning his own device against him, causing all three—Hacker, Buzz and Delete—along with the Grim Wreaker—to fall off an incredibly steep cliff.

It was about an estimated three-hundred-foot drop to the bottom—and that wasn't the worst of it; the bottom of the cliff was also lined with incredibly jagged rocks as well. Luckily—if you want to refer to it that way—none of them were killed due to the fact that they were mechanical and thus stronger than the average human being, but they did suffer moderately painful injuries. Hacker had ended up with a few scratches from the rocks and a sprained wrist, Buzz had fallen headfirst and thus received quite a few scrapes and bruises in that area (not to mention a terrific headache), and Delete had landed directly on his chest—he had heard something crack when he hit the bottom, and now it hurt dreadfully. He hoped that it wasn't broken; if it were, he doubted that he could do anything to fix it.

The ship had then smashed into the rocks, but it didn't land on any of the three—which was probably all the better; if it had, they would've been crushed. It had splintered some glass on the windows and had banged up the exhaust engine pretty bad, though—it had taken about four or five hours to get the ship fixed before they could finally get off the ground again. It was no wonder Hacker was peeved…

Buzz groaned painfully, then removed the ice-pack from his head and slumped over onto the table. "'Dis is pathetic," he muttered to himself, rubbing his head where he had removed the pack seconds earlier. "'Dis is really pathetic."

Delete was ignoring his remarks and was more focused on his own pain. "Ow! Buzzy, this really hurts!" he whined, touching his breastbone at the spot where it pained him most. "What if somethin's broken? I don't wanna have surgery!"

Buzz sighed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head disgustedly; sometimes his little brother could be such a child. "Delete, you won't get surgery for a busted ribcage," he told the taller robot firmly, removing the ice-pack from the table and re-applying it to his head. "If it hurts so darn much, just get an ace bandage from one of 'da supply closets. 'Dat simple."

"It hurts when I walk," Delete moaned, clutching and releasing the front of his shirt.

"So, what do you want me 'ta do about it?" Buzz asked, adjusting the ice-pack and slouching forward in his seat again.

Delete looked at his older sibling with nearly amorous eyes. "I'd really like it if you'd get the bandage for me, Buzzy," he replied softly, knowing that if he acted cute, Buzz would usually cave in on it. "Please?"

Buzz groaned, then looked off to the side, trying to ignore Delete until his headache went away, at the least (needless to say, he wasn't in any mood to get up, either). He needed concentration on something else…what was there in this room to concentrate on besides the fact that he'd nearly fractured his skull hours earlier…? Not much, he thought despairingly…

His thoughts were then abruptly ended by a loud, sing-song beeping noise—the noise that usually came on when Hacker received new e-mail. This startled him for a brief moment, and he jumped in his seat before turning and looking behind him at one of the minor computer screens. Yes, sure enough the classic e-mail animation was flashing on the screen, but Hacker was still nowhere in sight.

Delete noticed this, too. "Hey, I think the boss has new e-mail," he stated, for a moment forgetting about the pain in his chest and pointing over toward the screen. "Maybe we should go get him."

"Nah, I don't think 'dat's a good idea right now," Buzz objected, shaking his head. He tossed the ice-pack back onto the table and rubbed at one of his antennas. "You know 'da boss whenever we fail a plot—he raves like a maniac for 'da next four hours. If we get him now it's likely 'dat we'll be screamed at." He cringed slightly. "And, to be completely honest, 'dat's 'da last thing I want accompanying a monster headache."

"So what do we do?" Delete asked.

Buzz knew very well what they should do—just leave the screen be and wait until Hacker had blown off enough steam to actually read the letter and discard it. But his curiosity had gotten the better of him this time…the last time Hacker had been sent e-mail, it usually contained very interesting stuff. Some strange and dangerous stuff, but interesting nonetheless. Also, that beeping noise was just about to drive him up the wall if he listened to it for one minute longer.

Without stopping for second thoughts, he jumped down from his chair and ran over to the screen, pausing to hoist himself up onto the panel intended for the e-mail in the first place. Looking up at the screen, he pushed a few keys on the panel itself, and eventually the beeping ceased and the letter opened. Relieved he was for a second, but that was before he finally decided to glance up at the screen again.

Delete was curious as well; he had now forgotten about his chest pains and had run up next to Buzz, looking up at the screen with his hands behind his back. "Who's it from, Buzzy?" he asked curiously.

Buzz shook his head. "I…I don't really know," he admitted. "'Dere's no return address. All it says for contact is 'dat it was sent from someone called the 'A.I.A.', whatever 'dat means."

"I never heard of any A.I.A," Delete said, confused. "D'ya think that the boss knows something we don't?"

"Actually, no…" Buzz skimmed through the contact info at the top of the letter again, not sure whether to be spooked or excited. "I think 'dat they knows something we don't and 'da boss doesn't either. 'Dis letter is addressed to us, not him."

Delete's eyes widened. "Wow…we actually received a letter?" he brought his hands to his front and laced them together giddily. "How nice! I don't remember ever receiving a letter in my whole life!"

"Don't get too excited, DeeDee," Buzz warned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Not all e-mail is good e-mail. If 'dere's no return address it's likely 'dat 'dis could be a virus package."

"Well, read it, then!" Delete urged, leaning forward on the panel. "Find out what it says!"

Buzz looked uneasily up at his younger sibling. "Uh…DeeDee, I don't read," he replied.

"Oh." Delete paused for a moment. "I'll read it, then," he offered.

"Yeah, you do 'dat," Buzz muttered, stepping down from the panel and leaning one elbow against it boredly, continuing to rub at the side of his head. Lord, how his brain throbbed…

There was a brief silence while Delete read the contents of the letter, then finally turned back to Buzz, still looking greatly confused. "Well, what'd it say?" Buzz questioned, beginning to become a little confused himself—not as confused as he was curious, however.

Delete chewed his lower lip before continuing; Buzz couldn't help but notice the nervous stammer in his tone as he explained. "I-it said that we were supposed to come and 'receive our assignment'…a-and then it listed complete directions to the place where we should go to do it. And…and that was it. Except that there was one part about a 'robot revolution', but I'm not sure if I could understand that or not."

"Any signature?"

"It said 'Apollo' at the end. And it had that odd 'A.I.A.' thing. Nothing else." The lanky robot shook his head, confused.

"Apollo…" Buzz pondered for a moment. "Hey, wasn't he 'dat thick-headed guy who played 'da gong for 'da music of 'da Spheres?"

Delete thought for a few moments, then shook his head, dumbfounded; apparently he couldn't even remember who the Spheres were. Buzz sighed and smacked his face in impediment.

"Okay, okay, just never mind 'dat, okay?" he said, still sounding annoyed. He then began to walk away from the screen, his hands behind his back and a rather thoughtful expression upon his features. "Okay…if Apollo is who we—who I—think he is, he won't pose much of a threat toward us. But why would he say something about 'robot revolution'? What does 'dat have to do with anything?"

"Maybe…um…maybe the robots are planning to revolt?" Delete suggested timidly.

Buzz rolled his eyes. "Oh, 'dat's not obvious, is it!" he snapped back at the lanky robot, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Delete pouted and looked down toward the floor, embarrassed. Buzz's tone then softened as he added, "But listen, DeeDee, if 'dere was going to be a robot revolution, why'd he call on us? We can't fight. We're robots, and what's more, we're bad guys!"

"I…I know," Delete said, still sounding greatly hurt.

Buzz sighed and rubbed the side of his head again, out of no particular reason this time. "You're acting awful weird tonight, Deeds. Anything wrong _besides_ 'da fact 'dat you bruised your chest?"

Delete glanced up at him. "Weird as in how?" he asked.

"You're way too sensitive!" Buzz exclaimed. "I mean, 'dat's normal for you, but now you seem to be—gah, I don't know."

"I'm sick of people picking on me," Delete said, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "I'm always the one who has to take full blow for somethin'—even when I try to help; I always get the short end of the stick!" He made an odd noise that Buzz wasn't sure was a sob or not. "It's not your fault, though. It's me. I'm a _wimp_!"

Buzz couldn't comment on the situation. In truth, Delete was a little bit of a child, and very sensitive, but he wasn't a wimp—well, perhaps he was, partially, but the stout robot didn't want to say that out loud; he was sure it would only make Delete feel worse. He looked around the room; it was a good thing Hacker was still off somewhere else ranting to himself. If Delete started crying and he came in right at that moment…

He shook his head. There had to be something that they could do to distract themselves from the conversation they were having now. Looking up at Delete, who was still staring down at the floor, looking angry with himself and greatly depressed at the same time, he reached a hand up in his younger brother's direction. "Hey, DeeDee?" he said, in order to catch the robot's attention.

Delete glanced up at him. "What?" he asked, his voice still sounding choked up.

Buzz chewed his lower lip, trying to think of something—anything. While his mind wandered, his gaze traveled up to the e-mail, still open in the screen's window. He didn't like how suspicious that letter sounded one bit, but what if it was just a joke? He'd heard of phony hoax letters that had been sent to other varied e-mail accounts that spoke about something completely false and entirely different just so you'd come to the location and be tempted into buying one of their products or whatever the heck it is they were really doing.

He smiled in mild amusement at this thought. What some solicitors would do to sell their products…

Then again, he usually wasn't one to be easily tempted—unless it was something he truly longed for, which he was sure that this "A.I.A." or this "Apollo" surely couldn't offer him. His other desires may have been easy to obtain, but his one main desire was something that no one could ever manage to land their hands on. And Delete, though easily tempted, he could easily drag away from anything.

He needed a little more amusement tonight, anyhow. Hacker wouldn't stop his stomping around for at least an hour—he usually got pretty angry when he was so close to destroying something—and that would give them both the perfect opportunity to do something by themselves. He looked back up at the e-mail…it couldn't hurt, he decided.

"What, Buzzy?" Delete repeated, this time sounding highly impatient.

Buzz snapped out of his momentary trance, a little taken aback. "Wha—oh, oh yeah. DeeDee, I think 'dat we need to get outta here for awhile. Ya know, just drive around someplace or something." He laughed cockily. "Maybe we could even follow 'dose pathetic directions 'dat e-mail sent us."

"Ooh…Buzz, I don't think that's such a good idea," Delete retorted, sounding a little nervous. "What if it's a trap?"

"'Den we'll know," Buzz replied simply as he typed in a command on the panel before looking in the direction of the in-the-wall printer. "Come on, it can't hurt us at all. You'll see."

Delete stared back at him, still a little uneasy, as the e-mail finally finished printing itself. Buzz leapt up and ripped the paper from the slot, then looked down at it before grinning, rolling it up, and heading toward the sliding platform, shoving the e-mail print into Delete's hands before departing.

"Come on, Deeds!" Buzz called from somewhere below the Wreaker. "We've only got about an hour before 'da boss comes to his senses."

* * *

"Okay…according to their directions, we're s'posed to go…north about five bytes, an' then turn right over at that satellite over there…" 

Buzz nodded, then shifted the controls over right, making a sharp turn at a rather rusty-looking satellite—actually, it was more than rusty; it was almost entirely weathered away. Everything that they had passed upon cybersite Nowhere had been exactly like this—the entire area looked as if it hadn't been set foot in for eons. The two robots at first hadn't minded, but now Buzz was starting to become a little suspicious.

"Ay, Deeds," he finally spoke up, "is it just me or does 'dis area look kinda…deserted to you?"

Delete paused from looking at the directions and looked out the window for a brief moment for looking back over at the paper again. "I know, Buzzy…but according to the letter, we're headin' in the right direction so far…"

Buzz sighed. "Delete, you can barely tell your left from your right," he replied, sounding rather annoyed. "I'm pretty sure 'dat at one particular turn you mistook something for something else, and now you've ended us up in some kinda barren, completely uninhabited waste—"

"Hey, look!" Delete suddenly exclaimed, thrusting his index finger toward the front of the windshield and startling Buzz in the process.

"What…?" Buzz said, not realizing he was thinking out loud, then paused in his driving to look over the edge of the dashboard and out the frontal windshield. Yes, sure enough, Delete had seen something of importance—although Buzz was surprised that it was here, of all places.

On an immensely large chunk of what appeared to be meteor debris—Buzz couldn't distinguish it as pure cybersite material or not—was stationed a massive building, flecked with rust and crumbling in some places, but nevertheless standing erect in the midst of the eroded rock and gathering dust. It took up about three-fourths of the meteor itself and looked like an old-fashioned factory that had gone out of business last century.

Buzz raised an eyebrow suspiciously, before Delete finally finished reading over the e-mail and declared, looking down at the building as well, "We're supposed to land there, Buzz. The directions stop right at this location."

"What? No way!" Buzz exclaimed, in both disbelief and disgust. Well, maybe it was a hoax, he thought to himself, glowering, as he shifted the controls downward, sending their vehicle down from the Cyberspacian sky and into the atmosphere of the meteor itself. Of course, it couldn't hurt to check it out. This trip shouldn't have been in vain as is.

A few seconds later the vehicle had been successfully parked behind a particularly large slab of aged steel, and the two robots got out and began to slowly walk across the barren area, taking in everything that was around them. Delete seemed to be the one who was more interested, however.

"Wow, this place is scary," Delete remarked timidly, looking around at the shadows that the varied debris cast. "I-I wonder if th-this w-was s-supposed to be a j-joke…"

"It is a joke," Buzz stated firmly, as they slowly walked past the front of the massive factory building and began to head off down the side. "'Dere can't be any other possible explanation. Besides us 'dere's no one else—"

He stopped dead when he heard a low _WHIIIRRR_ noise from somewhere above his head. Curious, he looked up toward the origination of the noise, in time to see a small, camera-like device, attached to the wall by several mechanical joints and wires and currently rotating in his direction. In his haste to finish his walk alongside the building he had refused to take any notice of it...until now, anyway.

Delete noticed the camera, too. "Buzz…it's still working," he said, backpedaling a few steps, his voice laced with fear.

Buzz swallowed hard, but did not backpedal, although the firm tone in his voice sounded greatly forced. "N…no, DeeDee. It can't be working. It can't. No one's been here in years…"

"But you saw it, too…" Delete said quietly.

"No I didn't," Buzz lied, his voice now sounding nervous and quickened. "I didn't—"

"**Why are you here?**"

At hearing a voice that wasn't their own, both Buzz and Delete yelped; Delete jumped into Buzz's arms and wrapped his own arms around his brother's head, trembling violently. Buzz was shaking as well, though not as hard, and the two were now looking around for the source of the voice.

It came again a few seconds later. "**State your cause of arrival.**"

Both robots could only shake and stammer for a few moments before Buzz finally mustered the courage to speak. "We—we got an e-mail w-with d-directions th-that l-led us t-to here," he replied, his voice still as shaky as his body was. "W-we didn't think th-that—"

He stopped speaking when he realized that the voice was not responding to him. Panting heavily, he dropped Delete on the ground and held the sides of his head, trying to steady himself. What's going on here…? He thought, as his head throbbed with the tension. Where'd it come from? Where…?

"Buzzy," Delete said, shakily getting to his feet, "let's get outta here."

"Good idea," Buzz immediately agreed, but the two had just begun to turn around when the voice spoke one final sentence:

"**Greetings, my robot comrades. Welcome to the Android Intelligence Association—A.I.A.**"

At hearing "A.I.A." the two's curiosity was sparked again. Even though their minds were screaming for them not to, they turned around and looked back at the side of the building. No sooner had the voice's booming echo finally died off from the walls than there was an ominous rumbling sound, followed by a noise that sounded close to the snapping of metal clasps. The ground beneath them then seemed to vibrate as, with a hideous screeching sound, a large (unnoticeable to the average field of vision) panel in the side of the building began to slide upward, raining bits of rust and flaked gray paint into the black opening below it. The two robots watched, their mouths open in disbelief, as the panel halted itself with a sickening _SKKRREEEK_ and, with a low hiss of steam, became completely still thereafter.

Dust clouding around them from the panel's forceful descent upward, both Buzz and Delete finally stared up at the halted panel, then directly at the immense black opening in the wall before them. At first they had no idea of what to do. The voice had referred to them as "comrades", which was usually a good thing in most cases. But why were they called here, of all places? They had no clue as to even what the Android Intelligence Association was.

Still, judging by the fear the voice brought them, they decided that the origin of the voice was to be heeded at all costs. Swallowing hard, Buzz finally stepped forward, walking in a slow, hypnotic gait toward the black, rectangular hole before him. Delete gave a few small whimpers, then followed him, still trembling in his boots.

Upon entering the opening, they found that the blackness within had faded to a dull gray—caused by the high, sloping walls, which were steel-coated and immensely reflective. A few more security cameras of the exact same design as the outside one swiveled in their direction as they slowly continued down the hallway, their forms casting long, eerie shadows on the side of the wall and their boots making loud clacking noises on the ground as they walked. Both of them were taking in their surroundings as they descended down the hallway, still in the same slow and still gait as earlier.

When they were about halfway down the hall, they heard the whirring of electric gears, then, suddenly stricken with a pang of dread, whipped around toward the entrance that they had just come through—just in time to see the panel slide back shut over the opening. That made it perfectly clear—there was no going back now. They had to continue; no backpedaling this time.

Buzz gulped again, then turned around and began to stare up at the ceiling, lined with dimly-lit horizontal light fixtures. "Whoa…'dis place is pretty big," he declared.

"Uh-huh," Delete agreed nervously, bringing both hands in front of his chest. "It also looks pretty new, for something that looks like it hasn't been used in a long time."

"Yeah, I know," Buzz agreed, nodding. He looked over toward one of the security cameras. "What's going on here?" He then looked up at the ceiling, then finally in front of him…only to find another steel wall in its place. A dead end, or so it appeared. Emitting a surprised yelp that he didn't even realize he shouted, he leapt backward, almost smashing into Delete in the process, then exclaimed, sounding a little angry, "What…! What is 'dis?"

"A dead end," Delete realized; he then looked up at the ceiling, turning around in a full-circle before finally cupping his hands to his mouth and calling, "Hello? Anyone here? Mister? Helllllooooo?"

His voice bounced off the walls and echoed back to them, but no one replied. Buzz gritted his teeth in annoyance, then angrily slammed a fist into the wall in front of him. As he was rubbing the part of his hand where it had made impact with the steel, he stopped dead when he once again heard the familiar sound of electric gears.

He sighed, then continued rubbing his hand and leaned against the wall—just as it abruptly slid to one side, causing him to fall backward with another yelp and land on the steel floor behind the second entrance. Delete, surprised, turned to face him, and naturally caught sight of the opening as well.

"Wow…" was all he could say, clearly impressed.

"You'll have to forgive that, my comrades," the voice suddenly called again, except that it sounded much closer this time—actually close enough to be in normal earshot. "We've been having a few problems with the security doors as of late."

Muttering to himself, Buzz got to his feet, and, rubbing his head, looked up in the direction of the voice; Delete did the same. Their gaze traveled up just in time to meet contact with a shadowy figure standing halfway across the dimly-lit room.

The figure wasn't to be clearly seen thanks to the lighting; half of him was hidden in the shadows, but the two 'bots could still make out a few details. It appeared to be in the form of a man, about six feet tall at least, clad in a long black-and-silver trenchcoat, a silver turtleneck sweater, and black denim trousers. Steel-coated, metal shoes were on his feet, and his hands—probably the only part of his body that could been seen from their current standpoint—were metallic as well—although they looked very poorly made; at first glance one would think that they had merely been thrown together by discarded junkyard items. The only part of his face that could be seen were his eyes…he was odd-eyed, one eye glowing a luminous green, the other blood red. They were pupil-less for the most part, and the red eye seemed to have a brighter glow than the green one.

The 'Borg-man now stepped forward, reaching out and clasping his own crudely made-hand into the palm of Delete's. "Welcome to the A.I.A," he said, his voice now sounding much smoother than it had back at the main entrance. "I take it, perchance, that you received my e-mail, did you not?"

"Um…" Delete wasn't sure what to say at first, but he decided to be courteous and shake the man's hand in return. "Yeah, we did. Are you…?"

"Apollo," the man replied calmly, drawing his hand back into the shadows. "Founder of the Android Intelligence Association. Pleasure that you could make it. Now, then…I presume that you're wondering why I sent you that e-mail?"

"Well, duh," Buzz replied cynically, crossing his arms.

Apollo ignored the cynicism in his tone. "It was for a good reason, mind you," the man replied calmly, turning around and beginning to stride across the room. "You weren't the only two I sent the e-mail to. I sent one to _every _legible purebred robot in all of Cyberspace. And why, you ask?" He cracked his knuckles, provoking a dry, rusty sound. "Well, the answer is quite simple. Allow me to explain."

He had now reached the other side of the room, and, reaching out, yanked a power-switch built into one end of the wall upward. There was a loud humming noise, then a loud RCHUNK noise as, with a flash of green light, the wall adjacent to the one with the switch was enveloped in a series of green lines and red dots. Buzz and Delete shielded their eyes, then, as their vision slowly adjusted, they found themselves staring at the wall—which had now become an accurate, coordinated computer-map of Cyberspace.

The two stood staring at it, their mouths open in disbelief, as Apollo slowly walked away from the switch and approached one side of the map. "As you can see," he continued, gesturing toward the map with one hand, "this is Cyberspace as we know it right now. Looks pretty harmless, doesn't it?" Buzz and Delete made no response. "Well, believe me, it's not as orderly as it should be." He took a few steps back toward the corner of the wall and said, reaching out toward an unseen device, "Watch what happens when I add these…"

In a few seconds, yellow spots flashed up in certain points of the map, mixing a yellow glow in with the green and red. "These yellow areas represent where the Cyberspacian human race currently resides," Apollo informed the two awestruck 'bots. "As you can see, it's gotten pretty out of control as of late. And as you may already know, human beings shouldn't even be in Cyberspace in the first place. They never should have been, ever."

Buzz shook his head to get himself out of his trance, then looked over at Apollo and finally said, sounding a little confused, "So?"

"So?" Apollo repeated heatedly, snarling. "Don't you realize how big of a threat the human race is to the robot society?"

"Got me," Buzz replied, shrugging a shoulder apathetically.

"You won't be so cocky when you're dismembered alive by these pitiful beings," Apollo snapped at him, clenching his metallic fists together angrily. "Human beings are nothing more than stupid, ignorant, war-obsessed abusers. They care about nothing but themselves and anything that relates to themselves. They're vain, selfish, and sinful. They can do no right. And never once have they considered the fact that robots may possibly have some potential enough to save their archaic planet."

He panted harshly a few times before continuing. "Of course they feared that the robot race may be better than them. So they did what all human beings do to races that they fear—they abused them, drove them down…killed them." He now clearly had both Buzz and Delete's attention; the two robots were staring back at him, their eyes rather wide. "They trashed their own planet to the point where it's beyond repair. And now…" He inhaled deeply. "And now they're coming into Cyberspace to spread that evil. They're planning to turn our world—OUR world—into another chaos-ridden universe."

Silence hung in the air for a few moments. Then Delete finally said, in a voice that was clearly fear-ridden: "No…no…they—they'd never…"

"They would, and they are," Apollo replied firmly, crossing his arms and lowering his head dangerously. "No robot has ever gone through life without being abused in some manner—may it be physically, emotionally, even sexually." Delete opened his mouth to protest, but Apollo held him up. "I suggest that you take time to think over your own past before speaking any sudden judgments," he replied calmly. "I highly doubt that you can tell me that you've never been abused before in your life."

Delete looked at him helplessly, but obeyed anyway. He had never considered using his own life experiences to turn himself against humans…but now, as he thought, he found that Apollo was right. When he had helped the kids defeat Hacker that time at the Cybrary, did they even bother to thank him? No. When he'd done countless deeds for Hacker—at times even putting his own life on the line—did he even bother to consider his health, his condition? Not once. When he'd got clobbered on the head with the Cloneitron in R-Fair City—he was at the size where it could've killed him—did Jackie or Digit care about his condition…? No. Not for one second.

As tears clouded his brother's eyes, Buzz thought about his own past experiences. True, he was much tougher than Delete was, but he'd still been hurt quite a few times. Hacker was one of his main causes…God, how he hated the man. So unforgiving…so demanding…his expectations of them were much too high…and yet he was always forced into doing it by him, always forced to chorus false praise, always forced to call him "boss". And he'd come so close to actually gaining control over him once…but it had ended quickly.

"Oh…oh God…h-he's right…" Delete said softly, covering his face with his hands. Buzz looked up at him sympathetically for a moment, then looked down at the floor and gritted his teeth in anger.

Apollo smiled coldly at their reactions. "Now do you realize why they must be done through with?" he asked calmly, crossing his hands behind his back. Delete sniffled and nodded. Buzz nodded in following, a vengeful glare still set on his features.

"I'm glad you agree," the 'Borg-man replied. "Now, then, the mission for my selected robots is to get rid of the human beings. Of course, since there isn't much option as in to how to get them back to their own Hell-hole, we only have one other choice. And that choice…" His visible features contorted into a twisted smile. "Is to kill them. Kill them the way that they killed us."

Delete wiped the escaped tears from his eyes, then finally said, his voice sounding rather shaky, "I-I know th-that y-you're r-right, b-but I c-can't k-kill somethin'. I-I just c-can't t-take someone else's life j-just to suit m-my own c-cause."

For a brief moment the anger in Buzz's eyes faded, and he nodded in agreement. "Hate to say it, Apollo, but Delete's right," he said. "I may like to beat a few of 'em up—especially 'da boss—but I can't kill 'em. I may hate 'em, but I don't hate 'em _'dat_ much."

Apollo snorted. "They'll never learn their lesson if you don't kill them!" he snapped at the two robots. "There is no backing down from the prophecy. Thus, I'm giving you one last chance. Are you willing to put Cyberspace back in its rightful place, or are you going to remain destroyed forever? Hmm?"

Buzz and Delete made no response for a few moments. Then, finally, Delete looked down toward the floor and slowly shook his head. Buzz looked up at him, then looked back at Apollo; the look in his eyes was enough to show that he agreed with Delete.

Apollo seemed eerily calm, however. "Very well," he said, reaching toward the wall again. "If that's the way you want it to be…"

Buzz suspected that something was up, and as soon as he saw Apollo reach for another lever, he knew that his theory was correct. Lunging forward, he began to run toward Apollo, shouting angrily, "Hey—"

He was shorted out, however, by an intense electrical shock. The vibrating waves enveloped his body, numbing his joints, rapidly increasing his heartbeat, constricting his memory, stopping his lungs...the stocky robot shrieked in pain and tried to break away from the blast, but he was too numbed to do so. He could hardly hear anything but his own tortured screams…and Delete's…Delete was being shocked too, he knew…and he could also hear something else…it sounded like laughter, insane laughter, but he wasn't sure of that…

He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. His heartbeat was too fast. His blood pressure was too high. For awhile this continued to agonize him, until finally, he heard a loud popping and snapping sound erupt from within his head…

Then all went black as he struck the floor, unconscious.

* * *

Red. Black. Red. Black. 

Buzz groaned and opened one eye partway, then sighed in weak agony and closed it again. Still, the colors continued to flash behind his closed eyelids, plain as day…if he'd ever be able to see it again…

Red. Black. Red. Black.

Breathing deeply, he twisted his head to one side, then finally found the strength to open his eyes, turn his head back up, and look at what was in front of him.

Much to his surprise, he found himself lying on his back on a thick metal table, tilted at a diagonal angle and facing several large pieces of lab machinery. He was held in place by thickly-cut steel restraints, which encircled his wrists and ankles and were strapped down tight—they were cutting into his metallic coating and putting him in even greater agony than the pain he felt now. Whimpering in a tone he didn't recognize, he struggled to free himself, but it proved to no avail; he could barely get his back an inch from the panel without being tugged at by the restraints.

Apollo, currently leaning against a nearby table and patiently waiting, now slowly drew himself back up straight and, tugging at the flaps of his trenchcoat, began to slowly and almost mockingly plod forward, heading toward the table on which Buzz was currently restrained. The stocky robot was grunting and hissing in frustration, trying once more to struggle free from the binds, but again it proved hopeless.

As he finally gave up and relaxed himself, panting, he looked up in time to see that Apollo had now approached the table and was standing to his right, his hands behind his back and, although Buzz couldn't clearly make out his facial features once again in the shadows, knew for sure that he was smiling. The 'Borg-man now tapped his foot on the floor, then turned around and began to walk over toward an adjacent piece of lab machinery.

"Shame that you couldn't agree with me while you could," Buzz heard the man say as he disappeared from his sight. "But I do suppose that it's better for you this way. You'll feel much more renewed once I finish with you."

"What?" Buzz's tone sounded both aghast and confused. "Where are you going? What are you going to do?"

Apollo chortled mirthlessly. "It's a rather simple process, actually," he replied; Buzz now heard the noise of scraping metal and guessed that Apollo was moving parts. "It only takes a few minutes, and then it's over. And believe me, it'll put you in a much better condition than before."

"But what are you going to do!" Buzz demanded.

"You'll see in just a few seconds," Apollo replied coolly. He then removed something from the machine and headed back over to Buzz's table, keeping whatever it was he had removed concealed behind his back. "Now, then…"

He then removed the item from behind his back and held it up in the dull yellow light that was cast about the room; Buzz's eyes widened at what he saw. It was an electrical hacksaw—the blade, still razor-sharp, glinting in the light and stains of blackened blood visible on the jagged edges. The robot swallowed, then struggled, trying to scramble away from the horrific item, but of course he got nowhere.

"W—what are you going to do widdat?" he demanded, now visibly trembling.

Apollo smiled coldly behind the shadow. "You'll only feel a small stab of pain," he replied, still as eerily calm as he had been before, "and then it'll all be over. I actually didn't intend to do this to you in the first place, but I saw no other way." He then reached a metallic hand out toward the area near Buzz's right antenna. "Now, just hold still, and it won't hurt as much as it will when I make the incision."

"NO!" Buzz hollered, trying to struggle away again, but once more the bonds held him securely in place. Panting desperately a few times, he looked over toward Apollo, then said, sounding rather angry, "Why—why didn't you do 'dis while I was still _out_?"

"Your brainwaves need to be at a certain level in order for it to work," Apollo informed him. He then grabbed hold of Buzz's antenna and began to slowly pull him over toward the blade. "Now, then, please, just kindly hold still."

Buzz shrieked and tried to resist again, refusing to heed Apollo's request. Apollo made a disgusted noise, then, after a few seconds, released his hold on the panic-stricken 'bot's antenna and walked away. Buzz stopped screaming, then cautiously opened one eye and looked around again.

For a few seconds he was relieved—that is, until Apollo came back again, and this time, not only was he still holding the electrical hacksaw in one hand, he also had a syringe concealed in the other. Buzz swallowed hard, then began trembling again as Apollo gently set the saw down on the table nearest him, and then began to advance on Buzz, syringe in hand. Buzz panted in fear a few times, then looked off to one side, then the other, before his gaze finally met Apollo's again. The man was now towering in front of him, holding the syringe up near his head, appearing to be looking over him. He then finally reached down with his free hand and began feeling over the robot's body, pinching in some places, kneading in others.

Buzz didn't like this, but he hated to think about what was in the syringe, as well. "'Dat's not…'dat's not venom, is it?" he asked nervously, still trembling as Apollo felt around the area near his arm.

Apollo chortled again and shook his head. "No," he replied. "I wouldn't want to kill you at all. This is merely Antisteile. Nothing too serious."

Buzz opened his mouth partway, but then finally remembered what Antisteile was, and his throat closed up. Antisteile, or so he'd been informed, was a sedative for androids used to virtually numb the body and calm the mind when it refused to stop struggling, thrashing, or all in all putting up a hysterical act. When injected into the bloodstream, it would react instantly.

Whimpering, he tried once more in vain to pull away, but of course it was to no avail. Apollo forced open the steel bond that strapped Buzz's right arm down onto the table and gently held it up, feeling around the wrist. He then turned the robot's hand over and, as Buzz watched in horror, slowly plunged the needle into the center of his wrist, injecting the entire dosage of Antisteile into his system. Buzz gasped slightly as this was done, but could do nothing more, as the instant effects were indeed proven to be true. His entire body relaxed, his innards seemed to melt, and his mind seemed to drift away.

As his body numbed, Apollo pulled the needle out from his wrist, then tossed it aside and once again reached for the hacksaw. Grabbing hold of Buzz's antenna, he tugged the robot over in his direction, then eyed the selected area and, pausing once to look up at Delete, currently motionless and bleeding on the table a few yards away, nodded and, without further hesitation, slowly lowered the whirring blade into Buzz's head…


	2. I II: Nuclear

**HOURS OF DARKNESS**

**A Cyberchase Saga by Grand High Idol**

**I: II. NUCLEAR**

However, nearly halfway across Cyberspace at Control Central, the main cybersite where Motherboard resided, Digit LeBoid, the Cybersquad's perky robot bird sidekick, was oblivious as to what exactly was going on over on the meteor—and why not; he had left with the rest of the Cybersquad shortly after Hacker had plummeted off that cliff. Now he was in the kitchen, standing atop a stool in front of the stove, experimenting with a new type of recipe that he'd just thought of the other day.

"Let's see, here…" Digit dipped his wingtip into the chowder-like substance he was cooking and stuck it in his mouth, pondering. "Hm…it certainly has enough herbs, all right…but it needs something else." He snapped his fingers. "Pepper! It needs pepper!"

Looking around the countertop and realizing, for the first time that he had started cooking, that he didn't have any pepper, he sighed, then looked up at the cabinet above him and stood on his tiptoes in order to reach the knob, eventually managing to grasp it in one wing. _There has to be pepper in here_, he thought to himself as he began to pull the cabinet door open…

It was then that the stool tipped over; apparently Digit had been standing too far back on the edge. "_AAAAAAHHH_!" he yelped as he fell off and hit the ground with a loud _THUD_; the stool followed shortly after with a much louder noise. Lying on his back on the floor, he groaned, then felt at his beak—it actually wasn't out of place this time, miraculously—and shakily rose himself off the linoleum floor.

"Digit?" Motherboard's voice called from the adjacent room. "Is everything—all right in—there?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine," Digit replied calmly, straightening out the red cap he always wore on his head. "I just had a little fall, is it. Nothing's broken…except possibly the stool. But I can fix it!" He added the last line quickly.

"Very well…if you're sure…"

"Yeah, I'll be okay, don't worry about it," Digit told her; he then sighed and, turning around, began to make an attempt to set the stool back up in its proper place.

"Boy," he muttered to himself as he braced himself against the stool and began to push it upward, "talk about one of your worse days…first I nearly smash clear through a tree, then I ram into a wall, then I get a headache from running into some seismic waves, and now my stool falls over." He shook his head as he set the stool back up in front of the stove, then wobbled it a little to test its capacity. "At least it's not broken…"

He hopped back up onto the stool—being sure to keep his weight evenly balanced this time—and tasted the substance again, then shook his head a second time. "I don't care how bad a day I'm having; this still needs pepper!" he griped.

He was making a safer attempt to reach the pepper again when Dr. Marbles walked in, looking rather pleased with something or another. Digit paused in his reaching to look over at the Doc, nearly toppling the stool over in the process…thankfully, it didn't fall this time.

"Oh, hi, Doc!" Digit exclaimed cheerfully as the Doctor walked over to the coffee brewer, poured himself a small cup of coffee, then went to take his seat at the table in the center of the room. There was a brief pause. "Well, you certainly look happy this evening," the bird finally remarked. "What gives?"

Dr. Marbles took a sip of coffee before looking at Digit in return. "I recently backlogged from the phone with another cybersite, and you'll be pleased to know that the Cyberspacian Missile Alliance has finally unzipped a way to create safe missiles," he told the bird, sounding quite excited. "They're now in the process of using Cyber-nuclear power instead of the same recurring virus pods—not only are the missiles much safer to handle when building, now, they no longer have to worry about Hacker using them to demolish cybersites." He seemed greatly pleased with himself as he spoke the last line.

Digit was happy to hear this—he had read about the severe destruction virus pod missiles had done to Cyberspace in the past—but he was still rather uneasy at this fact. "I don't know, Doc…doesn't Cyber-nuclear power have a way of causing mass destruction on a greater scale? Matty told me about nuclear missiles once during a friendly conversation, and it didn't sound too good to me."

The Doctor shook his head. "No, you need not worry about that little error," he replied, pausing to take another brief sip of coffee. "The entire cause for the building of these missiles was to prevent viral damage. Cyberspace is the perfect area for viruses to constantly launch and destroy. Thus…" He sighed before continuing. "Thus, they've decided to downgrade to nuclear power. Whilst it can be very dangerous, it still cannot compare to what the virus pod missiles have done to our community in the past."

"Yeah, but still…I've always wondered _why_ the Cyberspacian Missile Alliance even exists, anyway. Isn't Cyberspace supposed to be a peaceful and harmonious universe?" The bird appeared greatly confused.

"I've informed you, Digit. Our world may be a peaceful and harmonious place, but it still cannot be free of everyday evil. Thus, when things get too rough the Cyberspacian Missile Alliance comes in to do its job." He cleared his throat. "However, the missiles themselves are rarely used on villainy at all. More often than never, the missiles are used only to destroy incoming asteroids and meteors. But virus pods still must be concerned either way…as soon as a viral missile strikes an object, the virus immediately takes it over. That's why nuclear power may be so much safer in the future."

"But…well, Doc, even if they _have_ decided to use nuclear power, what would happen if someone—Hacker, maybe—got his hands on one of those babies? He could wipe out an entire cybersite with one blow, and there wouldn't be anything that we could do about it!"

Despite what the bird had pointed out, the Doc seemed eerily calm. "You need not worry about that, either," he replied, looking at Digit in a sure manner. "The Cyberspacian Missile Alliance is well aware of what Hacker's intentions are, and thus they've secured the place as tightly as the auto-lock login page. There is no possible way that he can manage to enter that field."

"I…" Digit sighed, then closed his mouth and looked up toward the cabinet again. Of course there was no need to reason with the Doc; the Doc was nearly always right. Why was he even trying to make a counterexample? He barely even knew what a counterexample was as is.

"Did you want to say something, Digit?" the Doc asked.

"Huh? Oh, no, no, it's nothing," Digit replied sheepishly; he then concentrated back up on the cabinet. "Hey, do you know where the pepper is? I wanna finish my chowder before it ends up burning."

"Third shelf from the top," Dr. Marbles informed him, nodding.

"Okay…thanks." Digit couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed as he reached up and took the container of pepper down from the selected shelf, then slowly began to add it to the mixture…

* * *

"Many of you probably are already well aware of why I've gathered you all here," Apollo spoke out to the line of various robots, aligned military-style, in front of the steel pedestal on which he currently stood. "But let me go over the solution either way, just to make sure that you all have complete and full knowledge of what exactly we're doing to help change the future of Cyberspace as we know it. 

"You know what your goal is—to kill the humans and anyone—besides the pure robot genre—that have anything to do with them. Being killing machines I'm quite sure that you'll have little to no trouble at all accomplishing that field, but, my comrades, there _is_ more to the plan than just the bloodbath. Allow me to explain what we are to do first, before we go any deeper into the war that we are to unleash.

"I have been informed recently that the Cyberspacian Missile Alliance—currently head of all mass destruction weapons in Cyberspace—has created a series of new missiles—ones that run on nuclear power, not the usual viral. Whilst this may reduce the amount of damage that we could cause with viral missiles alone, there is an advantage to nuclear power that we haven't yet considered…

"You see, my comrades, we robots, being nearly free of all genetic copy material, save a precious few—you know who you are—are immune to the effects that nuclear power can cause in the ordinary mortal. Of course, in this case, the 'ordinary mortal' is the human being. If we fire one, and just one, nuclear missile at a certain cybersite, we have a full guarantee of not only blowing that selected site to obliviation, but a fair chance that every human caught in range of the blast will perish instantly. We may need to sacrifice quite a few of our troops here and there, but it shall be worth the task we are to fulfill."

He cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles before continuing, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the wall—the one that contained the light-map, naturally. "Our first task before we upgrade to the real killing is to retrieve those missiles and prepare them for targeting and launch purposes. And that's where you, you beautiful creatures, are to do your job." He flashed an eerie grin, then barked out, his voice echoing off the steel walls of the large room, "A-9! X-7!"

There was a brief silence, then finally one robot stepped out from the front of the line—a rather oddly-built android wearing dark slacks, a white shirt, and a leather jacket; half of his face was covered by a black, gangster-style hat. He looked up at Apollo as he stated his response.

"Yes, master," he said, his tone cold, his voice free of all emotion. Apollo grinned menacingly.

"You are to lead the selected recruits into the Cyberspacian Missile Alliance's main weaponry chamber, retrieve the power source that shall give us access to these nuclear missiles, and bring it back here in the best possible way that you can think of. If anyone gets in your way, you are to kill them at once. If anyone tries to stop you, same deal. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, master," the droid repeated, his voice still as dead and emotionless as before.

Apollo smiled again and nodded his head slowly. "Good," he finally replied; he then thrust his index finger toward the sliding panel that only hours ago had Buzz and Delete—who were currently nowhere to be seen within the army line—entered reluctant to join the A.I.A. "Now, then, go forth and conquer!"

The droid, his hidden face remaining unsmiling in the shadows, bowed his head, then turned around and began to head for the panel, which was already beginning to slide itself open to reveal the entrance hallway. Several other robots—heavily equipped with ancient, yet highly dangerous weaponry—left the line and headed out after him. The last member of the party went through just as the panel began to slide itself shut once more, leaving Apollo and the remaining recruits alone in the room once again.

"Now we are to wait," Apollo replied coolly, staring at the metal panel, now closed and as still as death. "Wait for the signal…and then it's time to burn…"

* * *

Being that it was early evening, the Missile Alliance was at its busiest hours; many of the employees there were currently occupied with the security, the experimental processes, the inspection, the computer analization, and such other related tasks. Thus, it was only natural that no one took any notice of the posse of robots smashing through the electrical gates that bordered the area without conflict…one security guard did, but of course one of the robots took care of _him_ before he could get the word out. 

As soon as they were out of sight behind the first building, the oddly-built droid—chosen, of course, to be the leader of the pack—halted the other robots in the posse and explained, in the same cold tone he had used before: "Now, then, my loyal comrades…you know what we are here to do. We must retrieve that power source, and we must do it as quickly as possible. I don't care how many that you have to kill in order to get them; just do it and everything will fall into place. Correct?"

"Correct," the other robots repeated, sounding just as lifeless.

"Good." The droid then turned to look toward another high fence near the end of the first and second buildings' alleys. "Now then, we are to split up into separate pairs. Since we so far have no idea of where to find these missile launchers as is, we'll have to tear the place apart until we find it."

The robots nodded immediately, then obeyed, each one choosing an ally and splitting up into pairs, each one heading in a different direction. Now only the droid remained; he stood there, the wind blowing his garments, the serious expression never leaving his face, his hands jammed into the pockets of his coat. Finally, he tilted his head upward, the light from one of the buildings reflecting off of his eyes for a split second.

His cold, lifeless eyes…

Then he turned around and slowly, steadily began to remove his jacket…as his head seemed to slip off of his shoulders and hit the ground, oddly silent…

* * *

For one reason or another, Motherboard always seemed to sense the danger that was going on in cybersites—even if no one had ever notified her in the first place. So it was only natural that she realized what was going on at the Cyberspacian Missile Alliance, of course. And, being that this could possibly be a cyber-crisis, she did the only thing that seemed logical at the moment—she portaled the kids in from the real world. 

Digit waited and watched as the pink-colored portal opened up in the ceiling of the main building, and the three preteens fell out, hitting the ground and rolling down the aisle for a few moments before finally slowing to a stop. Matt, who had landed on top of both the girls, got up first, straightening out his green sweater and looking around.

"Gah, I know that we say this all the time, but we _really_ need to land better next time," the redhead groaned, rubbing his arm. "I think I bruised something."

"_You_ think you bruised something?" Jackie griped, staggering to her feet and dusting herself off. "I think I twisted my ankle. Hopefully I'll be able to walk okay. I can walk okay, can't I?" She took a few steps forward to test her aching joint out, and, upon finding that it wasn't twisted nor broken, only a little pressured on from the landing, gave a sigh of relief.

"So, what's going on now?" Matt asked. "I thought we left only a few hours ago."

"There is a—problem—at the Cyberspacian Missile—Alliance," Motherboard informed them, the usual tracking and returning in-between her sentence. "Unknown—interlopers. Must find and—stop before—things get out—of hand."

"The Cyberspacian Missile Alliance?" Inez repeated, adjusting her glasses. "Never heard of that before."

"You'll find out soon enough," Digit replied; he then looked over to the side. "Portal at three o'clock!"

The kids looked over at the swirling, colorful mass, then quickly ran and jumped into it, Digit following last, as usual. As it closed up and faded, the kids once again flew through the swirling, math-encoded vortex before finally coming out from the pinkish-gray sky of the CMA and landing on the hard, dusty ground below them.

"Not again…" Jackie groaned, looking down at her clothing as she slowly pulled herself up.

"Nice place," Matt commented sarcastically, shielding his eyes with one hand as so to have a good look around the place. "Wonder what the whole deal is here, anyway? It looks like jail property out here."

"Matt, it's a weaponry storage base," Inez replied, rolling her eyes as she got to her feet, dusting herself off, then taking her glasses off to momentarily clean them. "You can't expect complete orderliness around here all the time…after all, the weapons are more important than the landscaping."

"I know, I know," Matt replied impatiently, looking around. His demeanor then changed as he took in his surroundings. "This place is actually kind of neat once you think about it. But, as I said before, what's the deal? Everything looks just fi—"

His last word was drowned out by an ear-piercing shriek from somewhere behind one of the buildings. The three children and the robot bird jumped at hearing this noise; Matt then immediately concentrated his gaze in the direction from which the scream had originated. Narrowing his eyes for a brief moment and squinting out across the landscape, he then drew his head back and shook it, pondering.

"Hm…that sure doesn't sound like a scream of joy to me…" He then turned toward the girls and Digit, bracing himself to run. "Come on, let's go check it out. I didn't like the sound of that at all."

"Must be the interlopers," Digit said under his breath as he lifted himself up with his tail and began to fly off after the other three, looking down upon the dusty ground for any signs of life in the area—even a mere set of footprints would've done the job. But alas, due to the dusty ground and the faint breeze in the area, any traces of footprints, human or robotic, had been covered up almost entirely. It was next to impossible to sight anything out, and if he did, he'd be lucky.

They eventually did find something in the area—only it wasn't alive. Upon stopping near another alleyway between the second and third buildings, the kids halted in time to see something sticking out from behind the third building's brick wall. Naturally curious as to what it was, they slowly began to step into the alleyway, their shadows dragging along the wall, until they finally turned the corner and saw what it was in full view.

Now that they could see it, they found that it wasn't something; rather, it was some_one_. Sprawled out on the ground, in a pool of red, was what appeared to be one of the CMA security members. It wasn't too hard to see that he was dead; his neck was bent back at an impossible angle and blood was dripping in shallow tone from his mouth. His eyes—now cloudy and lifeless—were staring up at the dull sky above him, into space, into nothing.

Digit, naturally, was the first one to react. Clutching both wings to his mouth, his eyes bugged out and he slowly and steadily began to drift toward the ground, landing on his knees with a faint slumping sound, trembling and stammering. "Oh…oh…my G-god…"

"Ew!" Jackie hollered, quickly grabbing Inez around the shoulders, who appeared just as aghast. "What—what h-happened t-to him?"

Matt looked up at one of the buildings' windows to momentarily distract himself, swallowed hard, then said, looking back down at the man, his throat dry, "I…I don't know, Jax. But whatever it was…it wasn't natural cause."

"What killed him?" Inez wondered aloud, staring at the dead body in slight curiosity. She then slowly took a step forward, allowing Jackie's hands to slip off of her shoulders, then slowly began advancing on the corpse, examining it from all angles as she stepped. Matt, Jackie and Digit looked on in astonishment.

"Inez, don't tell me you're actually going near that thing!" Digit exclaimed, now sounding rather ill.

"I feel the need to, Didge," Inez replied, almost apologetically. "Besides, sometimes murderers leave clues that help determine the suspects and solve the case. I've watched a lot of cold case files in my spare time, so I should know."

"But Inez, haven't you ever watched old mystery movies?" Digit objected, holding his wings out expressively. "Whenever one of the investigators finds out who the murderer is, he's usually the next one to die!"

Inez held up her hand to silence him. "Shh," she hissed at him, then slowly, although a tad shakily, dropped to her knees near the body and began examining the area around the neck, trying not to touch it for the most part, but every now and then she had to reach out and stroke the surface of the skin to check for one thing or another. Finally, she shook her head, then stood up, wiping her hands off on her shorts.

"Well?" Matt asked, a tad urgently. "Did you find anything?"

Inez turned to face him, then nodded, keeping her hands behind her back. Her mouth was set in a thin line. "There're minor cut marks all around the neck area," she informed them. "And they look like they came from some type of chain. No doubt that he was choked to death."

"Oh…wow…" was all Matt could manage to express. He nervously jammed his hands into his jean pockets and twisted one foot around in the dust.

"So…where does that bring us?" Jackie pondered.

"Well, to me, I think it's pretty simple. If you see an odd-looking guy with a chain, don't talk, just run," Digit replied, folding his wings.

"Okay, okay, fine," Matt said, holding up his hands to halt the conversation, "but the more we stand here, the more people we're putting at risk. Let's just find the problem and fix it before anything else persis—"

He was cut off yet again by several strobe-like flashes of light from somewhere farther off, a series of terrified screams, then finally a thin wisp of smoke curling into the air and forming a small black cloud over the targeted area. The kids stopped, looked up at the smoke cloud in a trance, then Inez, the first one to snap out of it, quickly ran forward, pushing past the others.

"Hey!" Jackie exclaimed as she stumbled backward a few steps. "What's the big idea?"

"Don't you think that's a little obvious?" Inez called back after her, before veering around the corner and disappearing from view entirely. Matt sighed, rolled his eyes, shook his head, then finally took off after her, turning the corner as she did. He too disappeared.

"I really don't like this," Digit said, shaking his head. He looked back up at the rising smoke cloud. "I really don't."

"Yeah, me neither," Jackie agreed. "But what other choice do we have? We can't stand here or we'll be easy targets."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Digit replied, shuddering; he and Jackie then took off around the corner after the other two.

* * *

"Ah, crackers!" Matt exclaimed as he skidded to a halt in front of the area where they'd seen the flashes only moments earlier. At first he thought that they'd taken a wrong turn somewhere, but no, this was the right area; the smoke was still clearly visible in its ascent toward the sky. However, there was nothing to be seen in the area—no attackers, no corpses…nothing. "Looks like we came a little too late." 

"Yeah, but at least no one was killed," Inez pointed out, looking around the area. "Or I hope not, anyway."

"Hey!" Jackie panted, as she finally caught up with the other two. "Could you guys _please_ run a little slower next time? It's really hard having to run in these shoes." She massaged one of her feet, then looked up, automatically changing the subject. "Find anything?"

Matt shook his head. "No one's here," he informed her, gesturing out toward the emptied landscape. "Something's fishy here. And I really don't like it." He allowed his hands to drop to his sides. "We're gonna need to do something about this. I don't think that we'll be able to cover very much ground if we keep this up."

"So, what do you suggest we do?" Jackie asked, looking over at the redhead.

"Well…" Matt said slowly, pausing momentarily to think again. "Perhaps we could split up. You know, me and Inez go one way, you and Jackie go the other way. Maybe then we could cover more ground in less time."

"Matty, are you _nuts_!" Digit exclaimed, clutching both wings to the sides of his head. "That'll put us in even more danger than we're in right now! No way am I going through with _that_!"

"Listen, Didge, you want to help these people, right?" Matt snapped at him.

Digit looked at him for a few moments, a little taken aback by the boy's response, then finally slowly and solemnly nodded his head. There was no protesting against that, that was for sure.

"So then why not put yourself at risk? Remember, it's not us we're thinking about, it's the cybersite and what danger it's in right now. So, we're going to split up and cover more ground, possibly find what's going on around here. Now, then…" He looked off toward the landscape in front of him—set between two buildings and coated in the back by a barbed-wire fence. "Inez, you and I'll go this way. Jackie, you take Digit and go the other way. We're gonna meet back here in about two or three hours."

Before anyone could say anything more, he had already begun to run toward the fencing at the back. "If you find anything, call us on the Squwak!" he called out. "C'mon, Nezzie! We don't have all evening!"

Inez leered at him. "Don't call me Nezzie!" she shrieked angrily, as she began to run after him toward the fencing. That left Jackie and Digit alone, destined to stay in their own group whether they liked it or not. There was no following now.

"Well, I suppose that we should get going," Jackie sighed, looking around; Digit could clearly tell that she was just as nervous as he was. "We can't put any more citizens at risk…"

"Yeah…let's go do…that," Digit replied slowly, looking around the area.

He then froze, blinked a few times, shook his head, then looked back up toward the area he had been looking in when he had done so—namely, the top of one of the lower buildings. For a split second he thought he had seen something atop the roof, but now that he had cleared his vision he saw that whatever it had been, it was gone now.

_I could've sworn that I saw something_…he thought to himself. Then he shrugged_. Oh well, perhaps it was just my mind playing tricks on me_.

He then looked off toward the buildings; Jackie was already beginning to head down along one of them. _Best follow someone_, he decided, lifting himself up to fly after the African-American girl. _If I get caught by myself…oh God, who knows what that killer's gonna do_…

"Jackie, wait up!" he called out after her as he struggled to catch up with the girl's steps.

Meanwhile, from atop one of the buildings, a lone figure, bathed entirely in the shadow, slowly emerged from its hiding spot on the rooftop and looked after the two, glaring evilly, its teeth bared in a menacing sneer. Watching them as they departed, it gave a single, low hiss, then slowly withdrew from its position and began to head across the rooftop, continuing in a somewhat stiff, yet quick gait, the heavy chains wrapped round its shoulders clanking faintly…

* * *

"…So you can't tell us what any of the attackers looked like?" Jackie asked dejectedly. 

The computer analyzer whom they were currently speaking to slowly shook her head and adjusted the clipboard she kept in one hand. "Sorry, but no," she replied, sounding a little dejected herself. "All I can tell you is that there were about seven or eight of 'em, and the lead one was very oddly built…looked almost like two robots put together if you ask me."

Jackie and Digit exchanged glances, then looked back at the analyzer. "Did you manage to catch a glimpse of the leader's face?" Digit questioned, trying to sound a tad enthusiastic about his approach. They needed more information.

Once again, the analyzer shook her head. "I never even caught a full glimpse," she admitted. "The only one who managed to catch sight of him and live were a few of the others…they watched the entire scenario from one of the windows—for some reason they use transparent glass; have no idea why." She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "Worthless architects…"

"Okay, okay, so you don't know very much," Jackie said, trying to cool the situation, "but can you at least tell me why you think—"

"Karlson, they've broken into the weaponry chamber!" Another computer analyzer, most likely a newcomer, ran into the room, his hair in all directions and his eyes wide behind his thick-rimmed glasses. "Oh God, someone save us!"

Karlson—if it was indeed the female analyzer that he was referring to—turned to look at him, then shook her head. "What? Are you saying that they've managed to break past the—" She clenched her teeth, then shut her eyes and clapped one hand to her face. "Oh, Heaven save us…"

"What? What's happening?" Jackie asked, sounding rather fevered. "What's going on?"

Karlson looked back down at the girl, her face now looking rather pale. "Those foreign intruders have somehow managed to break through our security system," she told the girl, her voice sounding rather faint and far-off. "It's the only thing guarding the weaponry chamber. We store nearly everything there. I—they—if they manage to get their hands on the starter for those missiles—"

"No doubt that's what they're after," Digit exclaimed breathlessly; then, without further hesitation, he turned and flew at top speed out of the room. "They've gotta be stopped!"

"Digit, stop!" Jackie cried out after him. "Do you even know what you're doing! You're putting everyone's life at stake—"

But Digit was already gone, and there wasn't much Jackie could do about it.

* * *

The bird was now streaking at top speed down the hall, refusing to falter, for once even forgetting about the feeling of mortal dread he had concealed underneath his determination. But what did that matter now, he thought to himself? It was bad enough that they'd taken the lives of those two security guards, but now…this was just too much. 

"Weaponry chamber…weaponry chamber…" he muttered to himself as he made a sharp turn down another steel-plated hallway. "Boy, this place is really huge! I wonder where they keep their—"

He slowed to a halt when he found that he had indeed reached the weaponry chamber entrance—that large, smoking, scorching hole in the wall was a complete giveaway in this case. Landing on the ground, and finally, upon staring at the hole, realizing for the first time just how frightened he was, he swallowed hard and backpedaled a few steps, his tail feathers drooping and his body beginning to tremble intensely.

"Okay…maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all," he muttered to himself, looking around nervously. "Uh-hum…where did I come in from again?" He then clapped both wings to his head again and shook it frantically. "Oh no, don't tell me I'm lost again!"

As the bird whipped around in all directions, clearly on the brink of having a panic attack, the vent near the ceiling opened, and a series of metal links descended from it, provoking a faint _CHINK_ sound and not much else. Another figure, hidden by the shadows of the vent, then slowly swung down from it, slowing to a halt at the end of the chain and looking down in the bird's direction, keeping one fist wrapped tightly around the links. For a second—and only a brief second—a cold, emotionless smile broke out across the creature's face, then it braced its feet against the wall, undid the chain from its hand, then slowly began to tug the remainder out of the vent…

Digit was oblivious to the fact that someone was watching him, however, and continued to stare at the hole, not sure on whether to step in or retreat. Of course, then again, he knew that he couldn't retreat to anywhere if he was lost…and this wasn't a good sign…he didn't exactly want to go in and face that group of attackers, either…

Not sure on what to do, he stared at the hole, visibly shaking, until he finally heard another noise from behind him—a faint, difficult to hear _WHIIPHISSH_ sound. Gulping, he had a short mental battle on whether or not to turn around, shook his head, swallowed again, then finally made his decision and turned to look up at what had made the noise…

The most he got out of his decision was the bottom of someone's boot coming directly down at his face, then something large and apparently heavy colliding with the back of his skull, sending him to the ground, with a loud cry of pain accompanying it. Digit groaned, then lay still against the floor, his vision slowly beginning to blur…

He knew that he was going out…

And he couldn't do anything about it…

Deciding that he should at least get the chance to see his attacker, he mustered the strength to twist his head up in one direction, as so to at least catch a glimpse. At first he couldn't see it, just a series of blurred, dampened colors, but within a few seconds his mind finally managed to sort it out:

"No…it can't be…you would never…"

That was the most the bird could manage to whisper before his head hit the linoleum floor and his world eventually dulled to black.


End file.
